


Walk in Circles, Talk in Squares

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, NHL Alexei, Prompt Fill, Teacher Kent, Zimbits Kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kent Parson has it relatively easy--working as a Kindergarten teacher is surprisingly fun, and he's surprisingly good at it.  His life is uncomplicated.  Until, that is, he meets the NHL star and godfather of one of his students.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill from [ THIS](http://kentsmashkov.tumblr.com/post/154644930872/patater-promptsideas) post. It's been a while since I've done any proper Patater and I was missing them SO MUCH. So here's a cutesy little AU.

AU from THIS post from @kentsmashkov where Kent is a Kindergarten teacher, and Alexei picks up Zimbts’ kid once a week from school.

*** 

“Sir. Um. Sir? Ummm...”

Kent turns, fighting the urge to swipe at the globs of sticky paint on his cheek. But Félix is one of the most persistent children in the class, so he folds his arms and stares. “Yes, Mr Z?”

“Um but you haff some paint. On your face. Juste là.” Then he swipes at his right cheek.

To be silly, because for all that Kent isn’t really a silly person outside of this classroom full of fives and sixes, he swipes at his left cheek. “Did I get it?”

Félix giggles and shakes his head. “No. There. There,” he stresses, and points.

Kent swipes his fingers through the paint, knowing it’s only made it worse. He can feel the sticky acrylic adhering further to his skin and it’s gross, but lord knows after teaching kids for nearly eight years, he’s been covered in almost every substance known to man. So yeah.

“Did I get it.”

Félix wrinkles his nose and crosses his arms, and Kent can definitely see his dad in him. The short, fussy blonde one who seems pretty uncertain about Kent. And Kent gets that a lot. He’s young, and attractive, with some tattoos that poke out of his rolled up sleeves if he’s not comfortable. And he’s never sworn in front of the littles, but in parent teacher conferences he’s let an F-bomb drop once or twice.

He gets the side-eye a lot. He’s gay and he’s single, and a lot of the cis-het religi-parents tend to think he’s either a perv or a home-wrecker--or both. It’s not a job men typically do.

But Kent’s actually good at it. No, he’s spectacular at it. Kids listen to him, better than adults do, anyway. He wanted to teach maths at University because maths was the only other thing he really understood, but he’d taken a job as a sub eight years ago teaching first grade and somehow the curious questions and the unshakable energy of the kids had enraptured him.

So here he was.

Félix eventually just hands Kent a wet-wipe and says, “There,” in a voice that reminds Kent of Félix’s papa--the hockey star Kent would have played with if his mother had ended up being able to afford his lessons. But it was that or pay their rent and Kent really didn’t have any hard feelings. But Félix’s parents were definitely...some of the more interesting ones Kent had come across.

They were both nice, and very doting. Eric, the blonde one who looked like he permanently belonged on the cover of GQ, handled most of the day to day since Jack was on the road a lot. But they cheered their son like he was the only thing on the planet--and Kent appreciated that because they set realistic expectations for the boy, and never made him feel bad if he fell short.

They were both fairly cool toward Kent, but he supposed they were like that with everyone. I mean, it wasn’t every day Kent taught celebrity kids and he assumed both of them got harrassed a lot.

“Um, sir?” Félix said.

Kent sank into his desk chair and stared at the clock. The aftercare he allowed--which was one full hour after the final bell had rung, no charge for the parents--was coming to an end.

“Papa’s not picking me up today. Uncle Lyosha is.”

Kent blinked. He knew every kids’ pick-up chart inside and out and he knew no one had a person called Lyosha--whatever that was-- on there. But Félix was also five and a half and maybe wasn’t saying it right. “Who’s that, now?” Kent dug into his desk drawer and pulled out a packet of liquorice, offering a red one over to Félix who grabbed it happily.

“He’s my Uncle Lyosha,” he said, as though that answer actually meant something. “Can I colour on your tattoo?”

Kent absently pushed a box of crayola markers over to Félix then rolled up his left sleeve, displaying a wide expanse of black, geometric lines. He’d always meant to colour it in, but then one day his niece took her markers to it when he was distracted by HGTV and it was so cool, he started offering it as a reward in his classes.

He felt the cool, wet swipe of the first line, and he looked down. Félix was always a fussy child, always wanted to stay in the lines. It said a lot about his personality, and how much he retained from his parents.

With his right hand, Kent dug into his desk until he pulled out his student files, and he began to thumb through until he got to the Zs. Pulling out Félix’s, he flipped the card over and read the names. Suzanne and Richard Bittle. Alicia and Robert Zimmermann. Sebastien St Martin, Randall and Carrie Robinson. B. S. Knight, Lardo Duan, Alexei Mashkov, Justin and Adam Oluransi-Birkholtz.

“Hey kid,” Kent said. “Which one of these is Lyosha?”

Félix looked over. “Um. I can’t read.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Kent chirped. “You’re ahead of the class.” He shoved the list over, and instead of answering, Félix smirked and drew a purple circle round the name Alexei Mashkov.

“He’s my uncle.”

“I gathered that from the whole Uncle Lyosha thing,” Kent said dryly. He turned his arm so Félix could access more blank tattoo space. “Whose brother is he?”

Félix looked up with raised brows. “Um. No he’s gots sisters.”

“No I mean, which one of your dads?”

Félix shook his head. “Nooooo he’s gots sisters. Veronika and Nadia.”

Kent licked his lips, and realised that was all very Russian sounding and he was pretty sure there wasn’t Russian on any side of this kids’ family. “So like...an uncle but not like...and uncle uncle.”

Félix blinked. “What?”

Kent sighed. “Do either one of your dads have brothers?”

“Nope,” Félix said, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“What does your Uncle Lyosha do, then?”

“He plays hockey with papa and knocks people over.”

Kent’s eyes widened and he realised right then. Mashkov. Kent didn’t really keep up with hockey but he watched a few Falconers games because it felt like something he should do since Félix was in his class and Jack was nice enough. If he remembered right, Mashkov was huge, and terrifying, and had once picked a guy up by the back of his jersey like he was nothing more than a baby kitten.

It had been hugely, and wrongly erotic. 

Fuck.

“Cool,” was all he really said, and stayed silent until his entire arm was rainbow coloured. “I should have you do this right before pride,” Kent remarked, choosing to ignore that it was now ten past the pick up time.

Suddenly there was a crash, and the classroom door flew open. A giant, hulking man stepped in, and Kent was overwhelmed by loose brown curls and wide brown eyes, and a panicked face.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he said, and held his arms out, almost cooing in what sounded like Russian as Félix rushed over and jumped into a hug. “I’m get lost, GPS is stop working and I’m not know how to fix.”

Kent’s mouth went dry and his eyes huge and my god he wanted to climb this guy like a tree which is the wrong thing to be thinking as the guy is hugging on his student. He got up instead, and splayed his hands over his desk. “No big, man. Really. We were having fun.”

“Come an’ see my tadpoles!” Félix all-but shouted.

Like every guest to the classroom, Alexei Mashkov’s hand was seized and he was paraded around like the Jolly Russian Giant, shown every bit of artwork, and their class pets--the tadpoles--and their book list, and Félix’s reading star since he was at the top of the class this week--and probably would be for a damn long time unless Kent rigged the system.

The tour ended with Kent, Félix seizing his arm and displaying it. “And Mr Parson lets me draw on him and make him rainbow. He said I could colour his arm for pride.”

Kent blushed hard, but Alexei just looked impressed. “You do lines too, kotyenok?”

“Nope. Those is his tattoos.”

Kent shrugged. “It’s a fun reward for them.”

Alexei met his eyes for the first time properly right then, and Kent felt the blush all the way down to his toes. “Is very nice. Fun thing for kids. You good teacher, Mr Parson.”

“Kent,” he blurted, then felt like a fucking asshole becasue waht was he doing? Flirting with this guy right in front of the kid?

But Alexei’s mouth curved into a smile. “Kent,” he said, like he was trying it out, shaping the word with his accent which was really fucking sexy. Damn. “I’m not be late next week. Promise.” He crossed over his heart with a little x and Kent swore he was about to die from it.

“Next week?” was all he could manage.

Alexei’s eyes went bright and happy. “Yes,” he said, clapping Félix on the shoulder. “Zimmboni ask me to pick up godson Thursdays. We have no practise, late games. We are meet Bitty at studio. So I’m see you next week.” Then he bit his lip and Kent knew it was all over.

“Yeah. Good. Cool, yeah.”

When Alexei left, Félix’s hand clutched in his, the kid jabbering away between French and English at a rate Kent couldn’t follow, he realised he hadn’t even asked the guy for his ID. Which was fucked. 

He made sure to turn on ESPN that night, just to make sure Félix Bittle-Zimmermann hadn’t just been kidnapped.

Kent ended up losing himself watching the giant of a man slide gracefully round in skates, looking better than he had any right to do.

*** 

It became a routine, and each week Alexei stayed longer and longer, stretching out the hour no matter how early he arrived. Sometimes he’d show up ten minutes after school ended, and stay until the last kid was picked up. He’d do curls with kids hanging off his arms, and engage them in art contests which he lost--spectacularly--and would leave covered in marker and glue and glitter.

He would show up with piroskhy sometimes, that he’d picked up from an authetic Russian restaurant, and he and Kent would share them as they watched the kids set up and knock down dominos.

It was the weirdst year Kent had ever had, and Jesus he was falling so hard.

***

It was late May and Kent was seeing less and less of Alexei because the Falconers had made it into the playoffs, and they had roadies. When Alexei did show up, he looked exhausted and didn’t stay long, even though he always offered a smile.

Kent made it a point to watch all the games, and watched Alexei checked into the boards hard one night. Kent had all the kids make him a get-well card, and he had a stack of them ready to go when Alexei showed up in a sling. His eyes watered, and he promised a visit from the Falconers before school was out, if Kent could get the clearance.

Then the Falconers were out. They lost to the Bruins and were out, and Kent had to fly to a teaching conference which meant Alexei’s first week out he was going to miss it.

In a hotel in New York, on Alexei’s pick-up day, and he missed him. It was a lot, it was just so much, and at that point he knew he had to do something. School was almost out and Félix would be moving on to the first grade, and Kent would be lucky to see the giant of a man anywhere else besides his TV.

He was going to ask him out.

The following Monday, Kent was anxious because there were three more days before he’d see Alexei. It was Jack’s pick-up day, and Félix was colouring quietly at his table when Kent heard a familiar voice.

His heart began to race, because it wasn’t Alexei’s pick-up day. And he wasn’t prepared. And shit, he was nervous.

He flew to his feet, words stuck in his throat, but luckily Félix distracted them long enough for Kent to compose himself. As Jack and Alexei said hi to the small boy, Kent took several breaths, then came round the desk and offered a smile.

“Hey. Sorry uh. About the loss. You guys did amazing.”

Jack looked up, startled. “You watched?”

Kent laughed. “Yeah, man. Gotta cheer on my favourite student’s dad, right?” Kent ruffled Félix’s hair gently. “I was hoping you’d make it.”

“We are get cup next year,” Alexei said firmly, and stepped a little closer to Kent. “I’m know it. Feel it.” He thumped his fist over his heart, and Kent stared at his fingers and tried not to think about Alexei being strong enough to lift him with one hand.

He failed.

Miserably.

“So uh...”

“We should go. Dad’s waiting with dinner,” Jack said, and gave Alexei a pointed look.

“See you tomorrow, kid,” Kent called. “And you on Thursday?”

Alexei shuffled his feet. “I’m not...well. Season is over so I’m not pick up Félix.”

Kent felt his heart crashing into his stomach. “Oh well. Feel free to drop by any time though. If you know...you miss finger-painting.”

Alexei hesitated, then nodded, then threw one massive arm round Kent and squeezed. “See you, Mr Parson.”

Then he was gone. And Kent was alone.

And he panicked and ran.

Or well, he tried to. Because when he threw the door open and tried to fly out, he crashed face-first into a solid chest. Alexei was there, his hand reaching as if to turn the knob, and he just managed to catch Kent before he toppled backward.

“I’m want to...”

“I just um...”

They spoke at the same time, and Kent flushed, and laughed. “Go ahead.”

“No is okay. You.”

Kent rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just I uh. Well like...you’re really hot. Like stupid hot, and I think you’ve been flirting so please don’t punch me if I’m wrong. But do you want to get coffee or dinner sometime?”

Alexei’s lips turned up into a wide, sunny grin, and pink mottled his cheeks high along his cheekbones. “I’m ask you same thing. And maybe for number?”

Kent, riding his high, scrambled for his phone and shoved it at Alexei. “When are you free? Because I can literally make room like...any night.”

Alexei tapped his number in, then handed it back to Kent. Instead of pulling away, however, he let his massive fingers run along Kent’s neck. “Tonight. Seven. You text address, I’m pick up. In my fancy car, impress you.”

“Dude, I’m already impressed,” Kent said, breathy and soft, but he was smiling. “But okay yes, yeah. I’d uh...I’d probably try and kiss you right now if we weren’t in a freaking elementary school.”

Alexei chuckled low and brought his lips close to Kent’s ear. “Tonight, then. Because I’m want to kiss you long time, Kent. And now have the chance.”

“Fuck,” Kent gasped, and nodded. “Can we make it six?”

Alexei laughed and brushed Kent’s cheek with his fingers before pulling away. “Make it five-thirty.”

Kent gulped, and stepped back. “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

“Good,” Alexei said, and with a wink, turned and walked away.


End file.
